


Hard To Resist

by Huggle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aggressive Dean, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Possessive Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel, Protective Sam Winchester, Vampire Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:32:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5885974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Huggle/pseuds/Huggle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean growled, low and threatening, and the sound even made him shiver.  “You think you’re in charge here?  Maybe I’ll just do what I like to you, Cas.  Don’t think you’ll stop me this time, either.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hard To Resist

“Get out.”

Dean had shoved himself into the corner of the room. He’d smashed the overhead light fitting completely, reducing the room to near total darkness, and was crouched with his hands pressed against his ears.

Sam kept his distance. He knew from before that even standing in the doorway was probably too close – Dean could hear his heartbeat, probably like the percussive rhythm of a bass drum, and maybe even the blood rushing through his veins. Every sense would be magnified to intense levels, which meant Sam was inflicting pain on his brother just by standing there.

“And then what,” he whispered, afraid even that would sound like a scream to Dean. “We can’t find him, Dean. We can’t change you back. You’re going to just hide in here?”

Dean risked raising his head to stare at Sam. “No. You’re going to go get an axe, come back here, and take my head off.”

“No.” Sam raised his voice then, winced as Dean did, but stood his ground. “I don’t care if I have to lock you in here, I’m not doing that. We can get around the feeding, the sunlight, all of it. You’ll adapt. We’ll adapt. Maybe there’s even a different type of cure here. There’s whole rooms of books, lore, we just haven’t gone through yet – there has to be something.”

Dean groaned as his body shook. He pushed himself to his feet, using the wall for support, and took a step forward. Then he stopped, and forced himself to turn away.

Sam could see the war for control that was going on in his brother’s body. Dean had fought that war before, and won, but there had been a confirmed cure waiting for him as incentive. Now, with no way of tracking the vampire who’d infected him, Dean probably saw no reason to try and hold out beyond the time it would take Sam to go get something to kill him with.

“It’s different this time, Sam. I don’t just...I need to do more than feed.”

“You can’t feed, even if we got you stored blood,” Sam protested.

Dean laughed hoarsely. “You’re not listening. I…you need to get out, Sam, or me draining you is going to be the least of your worries.”

Sam stared in horror as Dean rubbed himself against the wall, moaning desperately, and let his head loll back. His fangs slid downward, sharp and eager, like the look that his brother suddenly turned on him.

He retreated, slamming and bolting the door behind him, and hoped that it held long enough for him to make a call for help.

****

They were lucky that Castiel was already on his way back when Sam called. Two hours was better than two days, but it felt like a year before Castiel ran downstairs and Sam stood to greet him.

“Are you alright?” the angel asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. I’ve checked on him a couple of times, but he’s stayed put. Guess you don’t have to stop him chasing me around the bunker this time.”

“Take me to him.”

Sam turned to lead Cas out, but he hesitated. “Cas...like I said, he’s different this time. It’s like he needs more than just to feed off of someone.”

“Sam, take me to Dean. I’ll find a way to fix this.”

Sam saw the determined look on Castiel’s face. Cas had never backed down from a fight when they were in trouble. Zachariah, Raphael, Lucifer, Crowley, Pestilence…he couldn’t count the number of creatures as or more powerful than him that Castiel had faced down to keep them safe, to rescue and protect them.

Even when on a few occasions he’d had to protect them from themselves, or each other.

But this…Sam knew even angels couldn’t turn back vampires, and he couldn’t get that hungry look on Dean’s face out of his mind. 

“I hope you know what you’re doing.” He went out, Cas on his heels, and led him down to the room Dean had fled to as soon as they’d arrived back at the bunker.

Sam started drawing back the bolts, fighting his own reluctance as much as the stiffened metal. Once he opened this door, it might be Dean on the other side – still in at least partial control – or it might be something that just used to be his brother and was hungry for them both in more ways than one.

He had Cas here, though – just like before, Cas would be strong enough to restrain Dean and stop him doing anything too difficult for either of them to deal with. Presuming they found a way to save him, to turn him back or least stop him turning any further.

“He broke the light,” Sam said, and then remembered Cas didn’t need light to see by. 

“Sam. Open the door.”

He nodded. Yes, he was stalling without even realising it, and there were a million and one other things he should tell Cas, warn him about, before he let Cas go in.

As if he could see that Sam just couldn’t do it, Cas gently put his hands on Sam’s arms and moved him aside. He got him to stand a few feet back, against the wall and out of immediate sight of the door, and then he turned the handle, and went in.

After a moment the door closed behind him, and Sam sank down against the wall. 

He wished he still had enough faith left in him to pray, but the only person he knew who cared enough to listen was already there.

****

Dean watched as Castiel came in, and closed the door behind him.

“Should’ve guessed Sam would call you. I should have, before we went in after that damn nest.”

“How close are you to fully changed?” Castiel asked.

Dean grinned, and he knew despite the darkness Castiel could see his fangs. “Pretty much done. You know you smell real good right now, Cas. Weird good. Like the air does after a thunderstorm, when everything’s washed clean…. What do they call that? Petrichor?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“That’s what you smell like. But just underneath that, I can smell your body. Your physical body. It’s kinda weird, Cas. I like it, though.”

He’d stepped forward without even realising it, and Cas was suddenly much closer than he was before.

Stupid angel just stood there, though. Not backing up like he should have if he’d even an ounce of sense in him.

“Sam will see if there’s any alternative cure in the library,” Cas said. “I’ll search for the vampire who turned you.”

“Well, that’s nice of you both,” Dean said. “But neither of those is going to help me right now, Cas. I don’t think I can wait this out.”

He wondered if Cas knew what he was talking about. Not the urge to sink his teeth into Castiel’s neck and feel his blood hot and rich on his tongue. Oh, he’d do that, too, but there were other urges driving him right now.

The urge to slam Castiel against the wall, to the floor, then slam himself inside him.

If the angel would only be good, Dean might make it the bed rather than a hard surface.

He wasn’t going to be gentle either way, but Cas could take it…. Better than Sam could, or anybody else unlucky enough to cross his path.

And really, he didn’t want it to be anyone else.

“I’m not asking you to,” Castiel said. “But I won’t let you feed off me. You can do anything other than that.”

Dean growled, low and threatening, and the sound even made him shiver. “You think you’re in charge here? Maybe I’ll just do what I like to you, Cas. Don’t think you’ll stop me this time, either.”

He felt Castiel’s temper rise, like a surge of energy swelling to surround him. “I’d advise you not to try.”

That probably wasn’t the best thing to say to him; Dean felt that anger, that defiance in Cas’s voice, race through him and he was harder in that moment than he’d ever been before. 

He wanted Cas to fight him, to struggle, because it’d be sweeter in the end when he finally took what he wanted. What was his.

Cas had been his all along, even if neither of them had ever acknowledged it.

He launched himself at Cas, fast and fierce, and he did manage to get him against the wall – more due to surprise than anything else. He tried to turn Cas around, but Cas pushed him back with a strength that caught Dean off guard.

Maybe it wouldn’t go so much like last time.

Something jerked free inside him then. He didn’t want it to be like last time. He didn’t want to hurt Cas. He wanted him, yes, and he didn’t mind if Cas made him work for it. But he wasn’t going to break and bloody him. He felt the shame of that encounter burn darkly inside of him, and it stilled him enough to give Cas another opening.

Dean yelped as Cas shoved him, sending him crashing backwards onto the bed. Cas was on him before he could get up, straddling him and pinning Dean’s wrists to the mattress.

“You don’t have to fight me for this, Dean,” Castiel said, his voice rough and low, and Dean arched up into him just at that alone. “I’ll let you have what you need. My only condition is that you don’t give up.”

Dean jerked his wrists free, and Cas let him. He flipped them over, pinning the angel beneath him, but Cas seemed far from content to be passive. He tangled his fingers in Dean’s hair, tugging back as Dean tried to kiss him.

“No,” he ordered. “It’s too much of a risk.”

Dean snarled at the frustration, denied what he could hear and smell just under Cas’s skin. His hunger wasn’t abating – if anything it was getting worse, but it was secondary now, to the need to have Cas, to take him and make him know who he belonged to.

The thought that Cas was going to let him sent a delicious dark tingle straight through him and he tore aside the layers of clothing between him and everything he needed to see. He broke away for long enough to shed his t-shirt, and then he was staring down at Cas.

Cas reached up for him, long fingers cupping the back of Dean’s neck as he drew him down.

“We won’t lose you,” Castiel whispered against his skin. “Not to this.”

Dean pressed his hand across Cas’s mouth. He didn’t want to hear Cas making promises to himself as much as to him, when he could hear in the angel’s voice that he was terrified it was going to be a lie.

“Not to anything,” Dean said. “Gotta trust me on that, Cas. Especially right now.”

He saw the pain flash in Castiel’s eyes, and knew that even if he removed his hand that the angel wouldn’t have anything he was capable of saying, not right then.

Dean was ok with neither of them talking at that point anyway. He wanted to kiss Cas’s mouth, wanted to drag his tongue across his jaw and down his throat, to where he could feel the stutter of his pulse under the skin. But Cas wouldn’t let him – too risky – and he knew then he wasn’t going to let himself, either.

He’d made Cas a promise. He wasn’t going to break it.

But he had hands, and he brought them to rest on Cas’s shoulders before exploring slowly, almost hesitantly downwards – torn between his sheer need and the knowledge that this would probably never happen again so he wanted to make sure he remembered all of it.

As if he’d read his mind, Castiel grabbed hold of both his hands. Dean made a hurt, puzzled noise, but Cas brought his hands up to his lips, and gently kissed them.

“You can have this again, Dean. I would have done this to save you, anyway, but I’ve wanted to before now.”

Dean stared down at him. He could see Cas’s face, open and honest, and a little afraid. Like he’d just taken a massive leap of faith and now wasn’t sure what kind of landing he was going to have.

“If you’d asked,” he managed, voice so tight it almost hurt, “you could have had what you wanted too, Cas. How the fuck did we get so bad at actually talking to each other?”

He felt Cas’s smile against his fingertips. “We talk a lot. It’s the actual communicating we seem to have trouble with.”

Dean laughed, and there was nothing really funny but at the same time Cas had summed up their relationship since the night he’d walked into that barn in just a handful of words. 

“So we’ll work at it.” 

****

They found the vampire casing a nightclub the next town over, and caught up to him as he pinned a blonde girl to the fire escape outside.

Dean hauled the vamp off, and grabbed the girl’s wrist. He shoved her behind him, knew Cas was there and heard her squeal of surprise as the angel caught her. 

“Run,” Cas said, and then he was there next to Dean, helping pin his sire against the wall.

“Oh, you again,” the vampire said. “What the hell are you doing with an angel?”

Dean nearly forgot the plan was to get a fang from the living vampire that had turned him when the creature shoved its nose at Castiel and inhaled like someone had waved a gallon of blood in front of its face.

“Mmm, forget I asked. Don’t suppose you want to share? I can smell you on him as well, you know.”

Dean snarled and rammed the vampire’s head hard against the bricks. “I can make it hurt a lot before I cut your head off.”

“Dean,” Cas chided. He grabbed the vampire’s jaw, exerted enough pressure to force his mouth open. “Do it.”

He couldn’t deny enjoying the howl of annoyance and pain as he tore out the fangs – ok, only one was needed but this meant he had a choice – and shoved them in his pocket.

The vampire yanked himself away, hand against his bloody mouth.

“You fucks,” he spat. “They’ll grow back, you know.”

Dean slid his machete out of the sheath at his hip. “Yeah, I really doubt that.”


End file.
